The Fiddlers; Drink in the Witness Box

It is easy to talk of a mine-sweeper. I wish the whole nation could understand what these men are doing. They are feeding the whole population, battling with the elements as well as with the enemy, battling with dangers overhead and dangers under the sea. The mine-sweeper is like the soldier daily over the parapet—he carries his life in his hand.

A London caterer ordered a quantity of sugar from the Philippines. The mine-sweepers cleared the way for it and it reached the docks. The caterer sent for it, and was informed that it could only be delivered if it was for a brewer.

A provincial caterer ordered sugar and paid for it, but was told by the Food Controller that it could only be released if it was sold to a brewer.

A working man was discussing rations with his minister in the street. “It is very hard,” he said, “to keep to your rations when you have five strapping lads, but we are going to try it.” Then a drunken man lurched past. The workman pulled himself together, and said, in great passion: “I tell you what it is, sir, I am not going to let my boys starve as long as there is food to make beer for men like that.”

Immense quantities of food are used for beer and spirits. All this grain is lost for food purposes. If this grain were available for food, the prices of bread and meat would be lowered.

“Rationing bread could not be undertaken without grave risk to the health of the poor.”

use our mine-sweepers to bring in food for brewers to destroy? allow brewers to increase the cost of living for every household? and allow the willful destruction of food supplies to imperil the health of the poor?